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     She smiled. He wasn't as rough on the inside as everyone cracked him up to be. He was just as human as anyone else, it seemed.

     ❝ So you're keeping count, huh? Almost sounds like you're anticipating for something to happen. ❞ She had to think for a moment before she could even recall the approximation to her next birthday. For him to have it down to a day--that fact alone demanded some attention.

❝In six months and nine days to be exact. No, I didn’t waste so much breath saying that to sound tough, it’s all truth.❞ She wouldn’t believe him, just like a select few captains, so what was the point in proceeding?

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    ❝ I still say you overdid it on the hair gel. ❞

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     She still didn't buy it. Maybe he was just trying to puff up his chest and seem more brave than he actually was.

    ❝ Don't you sound whimsical today. Maybe you're really growing up, Ichigo. Isn't your birthday some- time soon? Maybe that's why, ❞ she continued, clearly far more sarcastic than her words let on.

❝The only reason I am calm about this is because of my fair share of fights. I know not to show fear, as it is a weakness.❞ What Ichigo said was complete truth, through all his battles, the boy learned to build up his strength.

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    ❝ You seem awfully calm about this whole thing. Weren't you freaking out the last time this came up? You haven't gotten cocky all of a sudden, have you? ❞

     Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

     ❝ You better not be turning into a jackass. ❞

❝I know he will, and I’ll be glad to face him again whether I lose or not. Of course he’ll find me quickly due to the fact he’s always looking for a fight.❞ Who wouldn’t hide from Kenpachi? Every time he fought in the Soul Society, the entire place would be in shambles.

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    ❝ I still don't understand why you insist on keeping your being here from Zaraki-taichō. You do realize he's going to find out sooner or later and hunt you down regardless, right? ❞

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If 18 or 20 palettes wasn’t enough, I present to you: my 100 Palette Challenge! This is a collection of some of my favourite palettes from color-palettes and Adobe Kuler and I thought it would be really fun to have a huge variety of palettes to chose from

If you would like to participate in this challenge, I ask that you DO NOT repost this anywhere else, including deviantART; please REBLOG this instead! I have the challenge uploaded to deviantART as well, so please check it out there if you want to do it on deviantART!

Here’s some of the drawings I’ve done with a few of these palettes c:

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     The intensity of his hatred was easily felt, but it did little to change her expression or her mood. She couldn't expect him to understand the weight of his words, nor did she believe it was possible that he could see the situation from the Shinigami point of view. How could he? He was stuck in his own shoes.    

    ❝ We never lead the Quincy to Hueco Mundo. They chose that location of their own will, so you can't say that that was our fault. Not everything that we did in the past was right -- I can't say something as stupid and narrow-minded as that -- but the war wasn't brought about simply because of our doing. ❞

     She looked up at him, using a single arm to push herself back into an upright position.

    ❝ I also didn't compare our intellectual abilities, and I haven't put you below me. Others may, but don't bunch me in with everyone else just because I was born a soul and not a hollow. I didn't take up this job just because I wanted to fight every hollow out there like some battle-crazed psycho. I have a valid reason, and I'd prefer if you didn't dumb that down to hating a race that isn't my own. I don't agree with many of the decisions that Central 46 has made. You've sorely misunderstood where I stand. ❞

She didn’t understand how he ticked, but how could any shinigami? It was much easier to be a soul who knew the pleasures of happiness than one who  remembers only pain and hostility. Certainly, the Espada had been a shitty and rather violent group at times, and Grimmjow didn’t miss many of his comrades, there was familiarity in all of them having been somewhat miserable little fucks.  How exactly was he supposed to look at the Gotei 13 anyway? They had turned sands red with the slaying of Arrancar and the Quincies had only added to the culling in numbers. Grimmjow hadn’t bothered to go back because he didn’t want to have to find that he was the only one left of a great ten.           What was the point of being King then?

         ”Shut up.” It’s a swift execution of words, and he doesn’t bother looking at her to say them. There is no comfort there, and he had no urge to accept it.           “You shinigami think ya know everything about             anything when the rest of us realize ya to be             idealistic fools. You culled the Espada, led a              fuckin’ legion of Quincies to our door step,             locked our leader, bastard he is, in a God damn             basement, and expect the Arrancar to be grateful.” He’s on his feet then, hands dusting over the pristine white of his pants.             ”The only reason I helped, and the only reason              I haven’t been going on a massacre is because              of that orange haired brat. Ya wanna know why               I won’t go home? Because there ain’t shit left.”

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     Honey hues shifted to view the person that had touched her, almost with a hint of irritation. She didn't particularly take kindly to others touching her without warrant, but as soon as her eyes met the younger female, the irk disappeared. She was far too innocent to evoke anger.

     ❝ Can I help you? ❞

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started following you

A soft hue spread across her cheeks as she focused on the older girl. Small digits reached over to poke her arm, an attempt to get her attention.

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     His answer came as a clear surprise. It was no wonder that her smile disappeared and was re- placed with a rather solemn expression, her lips settling in a rather straight line.

     It didn't take much effort at all for her to understand the frame of mind that he was coming from. One look to his expression was all it took for her to connect. She thought for a moment, putting herself in his shoes and turning the situation around. She wouldn't have been all too happy either if the Espada had ended up winning the war -- if all of her comrades were dead and she had to fight with her once-enemies to win a war that she didn't even truly want to participate in to begin with. Even if she couldn't fully understand his emotional state, she could empathize with him -- the awful thoughts he was forced to endure. 

     ❝ If you really want to go home, I don't think that the Gotei 13 or Central 46 would stop you. They may question you, but we Shinigami aren't heartless like you think. Not all of us, at least. We know what loss is like as much as the next group. ❞

     Her eyes shifted forward to view the darkened scenery.

     ❝ --But I know it's hard to look at us like people that you can trust. Especially when by nature, we're sworn enemies. ❞

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand, it was just that he didn’t have the /intention/ to. It felt like months since someone had even uttered a joke in his direction, and even those who had would be met with a blank stare or Cheshire grin, usually followed by offense - because the Sexta was wound /so tight/ that any whisper of humor was enough to send him reeling.

Of course, he supposed it was difficult for any shinigami to understand the functionality of an Arrancar, the way their minds were wrought inside a rusted cage of despair. He couldn’t blame them, but he did. How idealistic did an entire group of  fools have to be…

The furrow between his brow reappears, wild eyes narrowing once more. Tension had drifted back to his frame - and his presence was anything but friendly once again.      ”Don’t ya think Hollows are already instinctual             and despaired enough? Why add to it?” His words were bland, not impassioned - but there was weight there. The Sexta was out of place, and he hated it.          ”Kinda wish ya assholes would. Then I could                go home. This place makes my skin dry.”

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i’ve always been prepared to die ——                   that doesn’t mean i ( want ) to. 

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     Of course he would take it literally. Why wouldn't he take it literally? This was Grimmjow after all. She wasn't really sure if he took anything as metaphoric -- whether that was because he simply didn't understand the con- cept or because he wasn't accustomed to the people around him using rhetoric in their methods of speaking was completely beyond her.

     Her ember eyes shifted to view him, mostly to cast a half-squinted glance for his lack of understanding. She had a thought to just leave it be and let him think as he did -- to not even bother with elaborating. Even still, it always bothered her when participants of a con- versation were not on the same page -- a weird quirk, perhaps -- so she decided to explain what she'd really meant. 

     "I wasn't literally-speaking. I'm sure if he tried to experiment with you, the entirety of Seireitei would know that you blew up the Research and Development lab or something."

     He was getting all worked up over nothing, and if she was being honest, it was just as troubling to her as it was humorous.

     "--I think at that point, they would kick you out," she added, but as to avoid any further confusion looked at him purposely with a lopsided smirk.

He isn’t a caged animal anymore, per se, not as bad as it had once been for the Sexta. Aizen’s hawk-like eyes weren’t plastered to him anymore, weren’t simultaneously praising, judging, and  threatening. But Grimmjow could still smell him sometimes, as if he was far too near. He could smell all of them - blood, and ash, and sand… It was a burden, and had Grimmjow been more human, perhaps he would have felt pain. But the Espada had not been a ‘happy’ family as so many of these idiots seemed to assume. When a paltry God assembled as many of the most horrendous aspects of Death and gave them ‘power,’ what was the result to be but catastrophic? They had all tried to fill their respective ‘holes’ in some way, and had inevitably failed. The Sexta finds his eyes closing, shoulders tensing as he inhales - the air around him rich and tranquil in comparison to the salty heat or ice of Hueco Mundo. His jaw tenses, remaining mask  doing the same at the mere thought of being poked and prodded. No, he had given what he could - but no one dare touch him. 

It’s a simultaneous laugh and scoff that leaves him, hurricane orbs turning skywards. Deceptively sun-kissed flesh revels in the moonlight, and he raises a killer’s hand, slipping it through the mess that was perpetually raised hair.            ”I’ve answered plenty of questions willingly… an’                     no one has /dared/ poked me. Do ya really                     think that would end well for them? ‘m not                     a fucking lab rat. I’d rather die than let                      shinigami understand how an Arrancar ticks.”

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Torture Device-Inspired Headcanons

These headcanons may be thematically dark or NSFW.

Judas Cradle: Would your muse rather suffer physically, or be humiliated? Heretic’s Fork: Is there something your muse will never confess to? Iron Chair: How easily does your muse cave to pressure?

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COLOR PALETTE # 2, 4 across - Grimmjow obvs

hERE YOU GO BBY

[ I’m Back, Bitch by hiroyukitomizawa ]

Do not repost without permission.

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bestixl

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COLOR PALETTE # 2, 4 across - Grimmjow obvs

hERE YOU GO BBY

[ I’m Back, Bitch by hiroyukitomizawa ]

Do not repost without permission.

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been keeping track of some nice color palettes, and thought y’all might find them fun

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     Severe eye roll.

             Fuck all ya’ll.